I first wrote this up for Halloween 2002.
Sunday Afternoon.
There was another event of last night that I didn't mention because I didn't think it was especially important, but I learned at dinner that it was extremely significant. I woke up - probably between three and four - hearing men's voices down below the house. At first I couldn't distinguish any words, then I heard "This way, Barstow," the sound of running feet, and then all was still. Mr. Barstow is one of the men who has charge of the grounds and buildings. My first thought was, of course, fire, but it was so still afterwards that I concluded nothing was the matter, and that the voices must have come from the power house, which is open all night, of course. Winifred Hyslop was staying with me, but she didn't seem to be awake, so I went to sleep again right away. This morning Winifred said she hadn't heard any disturbance in the night, and nothing was said about it at breakfast.
But this noon I heard that one of our neighbors, Mr. Alvord, committed suicide, by drowning himself in the lower lake at three o'clock this morning. He lives just across the street from the college, and until recently has kept a sort of a general store which was well patronized by the college girls. A few weeks ago he closed up his store, as he was suffering very ill health, and he has been worse since then.
More spooky stories at http://www.mtholyoke.edu/lits/library/arch/new/ref/ghost/.